I’ll admit – I have been in a funk. Work. School. Garage Sales. Vacations. And anything else eating into my time at home. I am the perfect example of doing a thousand things, but not really doing any of them right. I know my writing has resembled the prose of Debbie Downer, but I want to ensure you that it is not all doom and gloom, tyrant children and inadequate parenting. Although I still believe if they did give an aptitude test to all the parents of incoming kindergartners, then I would struggle to pass. I am not doubting my knowledge, skills or intentions, just my current ability to stay focused and juggle. The cryptic school newsletters are not helping either. If we need to bring in an apple, then call it out! Don’t casually mention it in the last sentience of a un-related paragraph about that week’s math lesson. There’s no connection, so please make a separate call to action!.
But overall October has been a good month, like always, and our weekends have been spent with friends (Kathy visited from Washington and we are still having happy hours on driveway), at football fields (from the YMCA to Nippert Stadium) and in the hills of Southeast Ohio (Hocking Hills State Park).
Last weekend we had our annual trip to Hocking Hills, which actually offered more R&R than anticipated and definitely more sleep compared to any year in the past (even the A-frame days). Avery and Alex are finally at a nice, independent age where we no longer have to schedule hikes around nursing or hover over them so they don’t fall into prickly plants (we learned she will fall into a cactus regardless). And since we are getting older, I dare say we are getting a bit wiser, and at least my nights at the campfire were ending early (no one could believe I was in bed by 11:30!). But despite all the downtime I got or the glory Andy got by making homemade pasta to save Sarah’s lasagna, the best part was hanging out with the Alex and Avery, and watching them hike, fly kites, play baseball, play freeze tag, play badminton, roll down the big hill, eat smores, sing karaoke, dance, make crafts, race, play Leapsters or do anything else that a kid can do when they are isolated (in a good way) in a 7000 square foot cabin on 100 acres of land.
Click here to see pictures from Hocking Hills 2010.
Tonight I missed Alex’s open house. Sure it was only kindergarten, but it was his first. Guilt was with me all week while I was in Arizona, but a $200 flight change fee to Delta was not in the company’s budget. And despite how much I wanted to be there, it would have meant a red eye home last night. Sure I can do a red eye, but do not prefer one with a two hour layover in Atlanta at 5:00 am. Guess that is what I get for booking my trip well in advance and before the 2010 – 2011 school calendar had come out.
Throw in the fact book fair was also this week (it replaced library day this morning) and Alex was one of only a few kids who did not bring in money for their first official book fair purchase (and therefore got a used book out of a “special” bin), and it is becoming clear I have a much better chance of getting fired from motherhood than my job. I am sill scanning all past online, classroom newsletters and digging through my giant stack of flyers, papers and forms from both LECC and Prodigy for some indication of this activity, but I am not having any luck. Somehow I totally missed it, making today a key data point in my downward trending ability to execute on the simplest of parental tasks. I am missing deliverables (in all aspects of my life), while at the same time I am also missing my kids. I desperately need a break from traveling and more downtime with them on the couch.
Sobbing occurred for at least a solid 15 minutes after I answered what seemed to be a hypothetical and emotionally un-attached question: can brothers and sisters get married? Perhaps it was my lack of sleep or just being oblivious that a parent might get this type of question, but I was notably unprepared and therefore responded in a very direct and frank fashion. Alex’s sad whimper of “ but I want to marry Avery” clued me in that it was being proposed with an underlying intention and I should have let him down with a little more compassion and explanation. But despite everything that is so wrong with the concept, I couldn’t help but think it was bit enduring that he loves his little sister that much.
Glad he is only five and hope these type of mother-son car conversations are kept to a minimal.
Whatever happened to the good old days when your child was home sick from school and you actually got to take a sick day? Now, especially for us telecommuters, it more resembles take your child to work day. You still feel the pressure to be online, although your boss can count on eight hours of low productivity and your team can expect a screaming, coughing or crying child in the background on every conference call.
But despite my challenges with a sick day, I am beginning to think from a kid’s perspective it more resembles put your child on a pedestal day. Here is a quick summary of Alex’s day when home with an ear infection:
-Slept in!
-Extra syrup on his waffles
-A free pass on whining over morning TV shows
-No school!
-A sticker from the doctor’s office
-A bagel from Panera (I do have to eat)
-A new movie from Target (I do have to get some work done)
-Extra time with my phone to play games
-A mid afternoon cat nap with Mommy
This list explains why Avery went kicking and screaming into pre-school this morning saying she was sick, too, despite being a picture of perfect health. And it explains why a sick day is the only day I feel like my child would vote for me in the mother of the year race …
Car pool and publishing deadlines don’t mix and created a few challenging nights. Volunteering and cutting apples is not my strength and left me feeling unqualified in Alex’s classroom. Doctors and learning that Alex has Alopecia Areata was a shock and propelled us into a whole new arena of parenting. That about sums up last week.
It all started late Saturday night when we were at my sisters for Alison’s 12th birthday party (can NOT believe she is twelve – the image of her at age three as my flower girl may always trump everything else). We showed up at the party a bit late and Alex immediately joined the touch football game in the back yard. It was then, from a distant and as a spectator, I noticed the dime size patch of white skin on the back of his head. Four hours later, I walked into the basement where he was playing Wii with Tyler and discovered it had grow – over 2 inches in diameter. At that point I knew this could not be caused by his nervous habit of hair twirling (Andy does it too), but something bigger was going on.
Thirty more minutes later, after worrying and panicking from searching the intranet, I was finally talking to the pediatrician on call. And although we had already self diagnosed (thanks to webMD) what was causing his rapid and increasing hair loss, it felt both comforting and still confusing to hear the doctor say not to worry and come in on Monday. So these are the facts we learned then and are still processing now: Alopecia Areata is an autoimmune disease that results in unpredictable hair loss (either patchy, which he has now, or possibly the full head, which we are waiting to see). He is not contagious, and there is not a trigger or real treatment. They say it could grow back immediately or it could take up to a year. They say it could be a one-time thing or could reoccur throughout childhood. With that, we are truly in a wait and see mode.
After taking this all in, my first reaction was feeling a bit of relief. There was nothing life threatening, and I could not be more thankful for that. My second reaction was thinking ahead. Immediately my mind produced a futuristic slide show of all possible occurrences at various ages in varying degrees. This of course included people’s reactions, his reactions, his emotions, his future and how it could possibly be altered from the one I already had in my head, which was first created at an early pediatrician visit when the doctor declared him to be a perfectly, healthy baby boy. For about 48 hours this consumed me. And Andy. But when I picked him up at school on Wednesday and saw his “friend” Lilly give him a hug goodbye, and Caden and Leo wave and say “see you tomorrow,” I realized my worrying may be pointless (and may be fueled too much by vanity) and I really should follow Alex’s lead or that of his classmates.
It seemed like a five year old is probably programmed better to deal with such a bizarre and rare condition. Life was still normal to him. Sure, the kids noticed, but he proudly told them he did it sliding into second base (not sure I like the lie, but give him points for creativity). And sure, a few kids did make fun of him, but he said he didn’t care and then indirectly punished them by not letting anyone being mean or making bad choices touch his bald spot (which was the “cool thing” to do on the kindergarten bus).
I have always felt as a parent there were a things I could wish upon my kids (happiness, good health and good teeth) and things I could more directly impact (happiness, kindness to others and self-esteem). It looks like both of these categories were tested last week, and Alex proved himself over and over in each. It sounds like we will have some moments and years of uncertainty in front of us and only time will tell how this will ultimately impact Alex. But I now know I should tune into what’s going on inside his head, and not what is happening on the outside.
This blog title could be misleading since our Redlegs are heading to the post season as the National League Central Champions, but let’s face it, we probably won’t brave the rowdy crowds and our wallets are not going to open wide enough to meet the rising ticket costs. So Alex and I made one final trip to Great America Ballpark this past weekend in an attempt to soak up some October baseball. Worth noting, it was supposed to be a family event, but Avery is continuing to test our limits with unexplainable tantrums, so Andy took one for the team and sat outside her door for a greater part of the day while she thought about her behavior.
But back at the stadium, we learned there is a big difference between 65 and sunny (weather in the Loveland when we were packing up the car) and 60 and cloudy (conditions at first pitch). By the end of the second inning, I broke down and bought a $40 blanket so we could stay as long as we could in our $20 seats. But after two more innings, the rain came, and although we were now literraly stuck with a wet blanket, Alex still insisted on staying. And just like his father, he took my hand and weaved us through the thousands of other fans packed under the pavilion until we had a pretty decent spot to stand and watch the firth and sixth. The good news ... Alex still enjoyed every minute of the game and all the extras (hot dogs, kiss cam, hispanic heritage dancers and time with me) no matter which view of the field we had. The bad news ... there is really no difference between going to a game with Andy or Alex. Watching baseball – and every second of it – is the first and only priority for them both!
I’ll admit – I have been in a funk. Work. School. Garage Sales. Vacations. And anything else eating into my time at home. I am the perfect example of doing a thousand things, but not really doing any of them right. I know my writing has resembled the prose of Debbie Downer, but I want to ensure you that it is not all doom and gloom, tyrant children and inadequate parenting. Although I still believe if they did give an aptitude test to all the parents of incoming kindergartners, then I would struggle to pass. I am not doubting my knowledge, skills or intentions, just my current ability to stay focused and juggle. The cryptic school newsletters are not helping either. If we need to bring in an apple, then call it out! Don’t casually mention it in the last sentience of a un-related paragraph about that week’s math lesson. There’s no connection, so please make a separate call to action!.
